


hit the button

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actor Stiles, Bodyguard Derek Hale, Elevator Sex, Famous Stiles, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Non-Linear Narrative, Public Masturbation, Secrets, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: Stiles shrugged and unzipped his own dress pants.  “Suit yourself.”Derek’s eyes widened and he immediately shoved the camera in the corner to point at the wall and hit the emergency stop on the elevator.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this quote by Anna Kendrick: "Every time I talk to a fancy journalist and they ask what I do in my free time my scumbag brain goes ‘say masturbate, it’ll be hilarious’." I don't have a frame of reference for this scene so I can't say it's a one-shot or if something will spur an idea for something else in it. We'll see. *shrugs*

“I can’t _believe_ you said that,” Lydia hissed at Stiles as they hustled toward the elevator, Stiles’ security protection hot on their heels. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed exaggeratedly. “C’mon, Lyds! It was a harmless joke and it was _funny_! I’m pretty sure even Agent Sour back there cracked a smile,” he laughed as he jerked his head in the direction of Derek, the lead on his security team.

“I have to go make sure _they_ know it’s a joke,” Lydia told him snippily. Stiles stopped in the middle of the corridor they were walking down and grabbed her gently by the shoulders to look at her directly.

“How about this? You go work whatever PR magic you need and then get out of here and get something to eat,” Stiles instructed. When she started to protest he shook his head and continued. “We haven’t been out of each other’s faces for fourteen hours and I know you’re hungry and exhausted and sick of me. Go grab dinner and if you’re up to it bring me back something that doesn’t look like it came from a junket refreshment table, okay?”

Lydia allowed her head to tip forward onto Stiles’ chest and the fight eased out of her body, relaxing for the first time all day. It was only a second but it was enough to break the tension between them and she finally smiled truly at him. “You’re lucky I like you so damn much, Stilinski,” Lydia warned him softly but she was smiling wanly. 

She got halfway down the hall when Stiles called back to her, “Hey, wait up Lydia!” He turned to the security guys. “I’m just going to hang out in the suite upstairs, why don’t you guys go with her and get something to eat?”

As he expected, Derek shook his head. “Not part of the procedure.”

“Okay, then why don’t Isaac and Boyd go and you can come with me?” Stiles countered quickly. It was just too easy to predict Derek’s reactions. Hopefully that didn’t say anything about the quality of their protection. 

Derek shot Stiles a split second of a suspicious look but covered it up quickly and nodded. “Fine. Bring me back something, too.”

Stiles suppressed a grin of triumph as Boyd and Isaac joined Lydia on the quest for supper and Derek fell into step with him on the way to the private elevator. They didn’t speak while calling it and waiting for it to get to their floor but Stiles could fee Derek’s eyes on him as he looked up at the illuminated numbers, ticking down to their number.

The private elevator was smaller than ones the general public used and so when they stepped on Stiles and Derek were close enough to touch. Derek hit the button for the penthouse and the doors closed quietly behind them.

“What’s your game?” Derek asked as soon as the elevator started moving.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Stiles replied coyly, as he crowded into Derek and pushed him against the opposite wall. He ran his hand down Derek’s chest to the front of his pants and brushed the backs of his fingers along the length of his dick that Stiles could tell was hardening under his touch. 

“Stiles, no,” Derek hissed and pushed him back by the upper arms. He made Stiles stand against the other wall as he frowned at Stiles and tried to adjust himself in his pants.

Stiles shrugged and unzipped his own dress pants. “Suit yourself.”

Derek’s eyes widened and he immediately shoved the camera in the corner to point at the wall and hit the emergency stop on the elevator. It came to a sudden stop and a bell rang three times in the shaft above them but Stiles didn’t care. 

He already had his cock out and he was watching Derek from under his lashes while he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Derek swallowed hard and tried to reach out to stop him or put him away or join in but he hesitated and appeared torn on how to act.

“Stiles, you’ve got to stop,” Derek told him, trying to sound stern.

“Do you know how you look at me?” Stiles asked lowly. “I can feel your eyes on me when I’m answering the banalest questions about the movie and it’s all I can do to pay attention to what’s being asked instead of telling everyone how much I want to fuck you.”

Derek visibly gulped and took a half step forward. “I don’t mean to do that,” he replied huskily.

“Of course you don’t,” Stiles assured. He stroked his thumb over the head of his cock to collect a fat droplet of precome. He held his hand out to Derek, offering him a taste but Derek didn’t take the bait.

Stiles sucked his thumb into his mouth and was vocal in expressing how much he was enjoying this despite Derek’s obvious reservations. “It’d be faster if you helped me,” Stiles told him.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Derek grumbled but he closed the distance between them.

Stiles grinned up at Derek smugly but it was short lived as Derek spit into his hand and encircled his dick. He stroked Stiles quickly, pinning him to the wall by inserting a thigh between Stiles’ legs, giving him something to grind against.

Stiles didn’t realize Derek would be so easily swayed into participating or that he was so damn good at handjobs. He reached down to cup his balls but Derek grabbed that hand and held it above Stiles’ head. Stiles got the message and threaded the fingers of his free hand through Derek’s thick, dark hair and tugged him close enough for Stiles to pant harshly against Derek’s lips. 

The emergency phone in the panel box started ringing, a harsh jangly sound against their breathy panting and rustling of clothing moving together. Derek paused for a moment but Stiles surged forward and kissed him hard, recapturing his full attention. 

Derek sped up his strokes and opened his mouth to Stiles, using his tongue to simulate what would happen if they weren’t in an elevator. Stiles responded voraciously, giving as good as he got, relishing in how sloppy their kiss was becoming.

The phone continued to ring for a long minute before it stopped. And then Derek’s cell chirped, announcing a call.

“I have-- I have to… answer that,” Derek gasped. 

“Nonono,” Stiles chanted. “So close!”

Derek tightened his grip and bit down on Stiles’ lip at the same time, making Stiles’ eyes pop open as he jerked into orgasm. Derek held him as he came, careful not to make a mess as he gently stroked him through it. Stiles moaned against his neck while his body shook and his legs threatened to give out under him. 

Only a couple minutes later Derek helped Stiles tuck himself back into his pants and gave him a once over to make sure he looked proper. His phone stopped ringing just as Derek reached for it on his belt and the elevator phone started again. 

Stiles winked at Derek and hit the emergency button to restart the elevator as Derek opened the panel door and picked up the phone.

“Hello? … Yes, sorry. We accidentally hit the button but we’re moving again. … Of course, thank you,” Derek relayed smoothly before hanging up. Before Stiles could say anything Derek muttered to him, “Say one word about hitting your ‘button’, I dare you.”

Stiles tucked that threat away for another day.


	2. The handfull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”He’s what we call… a **handfull**_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a non-linear "thing", I guess. I wanted to work on a couple other things tonight but this is what got written, just a moment in time that I initially envisioned as a drabble only.

_”He’s what we call… a **handfull**_.” 

Derek stood facing the restroom door with no lock while Argent’s words echoed in his mind. He made it a week into the new placement before he figured out what his boss meant by that. He expected drugs, partying, maybe some questionable friends or a penchant to slip protective detail.

Not this. 

He could hear the slick sound of Stiles’ hand on his cock and Derek exhaled hard as silently as possible. When Stiles made an unexpected detour to the bathroom Derek stepped inside thinking it was a regular pit stop, maybe he wanted to wash his hands. 

When Stiles stepped up to the urinal Derek started to turn around but then he watched him pull out a small travel-sized bottle of lube. Then he _winked_ at Derek, who quickly did an about face to the back of the door. 

Derek’s palms were sweating and his clothes felt too tight as Stiles started making quiet breathy sounds that bounced off the cold, tiled bathroom and landed directly into Derek’s memories. 

Maybe drugs and partying wouldn’t be so bad. 

Maybe Derek found himself instantly intrigued and amused by Stiles when they were first introduced.

Maybe his own cock was starting to thicken in his pants.

Derek grit his teeth and dug his nails into the palms of his hands, imagining how embarrassing it would be to return to Argent with his proverbial tail between his legs as he tried to explain why he was fired from his first high-profile assignment. That image helped.

Barely.

Stiles grunted lightly and his strokes sounded more jerky and stretched out. Derek counted to twenty-two before he heard a strangled gasp behind him and harsh panting. He waited until he heard the automatic flush and the sink start to run before turning around.

Stiles’ pants still hung open while he soaped up and washed his hands vigorously, red splotches coloring his cheeks and neck. Derek’s eyes trailed down and wondered how far down his body they went.

Stiles shook his hands off and grabbed a paper towel, then turned to face Derek while he lazily shoved his shirt down into his pants and zipped up.

Derek kept his head up, eyes focused on the wall. “Ready, Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles snorted. “I told you to call me Stiles. And Derek?” 

Derek glanced down and met Stiles’ eyes as he crossed the floor to the door. “Yes, uh. Stiles?”

Stiles leaned in and whispered, “You could’ve waited outside.” Then he grinned slyly and walked out of the bathroom, loose-limbed and relaxed, leaving a shell-shocked Derek hustling to catch up.


End file.
